FSRMPi
by Damon-Totoure
Summary: FSRM Pi translates into; Funny, Scary Random Moments Infinite . Self explanatory. For full, vague explanation, read on inside.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: 'Kay, this thing has absolutely no plot whatsoever. No point, no moment of dramatic climp, no sappy, heart-wretching ending, nada.

It's purely a series (hopefully A LOT of series) that are purely random, make no sense and are the kind of scenes you'd expect to pop up in the middle of a dramatic scene where the excitement is high anad hot. I'm been weird lately (DON'T ASK) and I need to blow off some of the weirdness. Therefore, I've made a bunch of one shots all piled together in pretty ribbon and scotch tape to get the crazy weirdness to slow down and let me do whatever it is I do that I never seem to remember afterwards.

An (MAYBE) explanation will be supplied (HOPEFULLY) at the end of each "chapter." Thank you, and good night. Or evening. Whatever.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Knuckles, Julie-su, Possibly other characters that somehow show up: Sonic, Miles "Tails" Prower, Sally, Manic, St. John, Constable Remington, Rouge the Bat, Locke the Echidna, Lara-le the Echidna, Mace the Echidna, (MAYBE) Lien-da the Echidna, Kragok the Echidna, Dimitri the Echidna, The Brotherhood of Guardians (Hah, I wish. Those guys are soooo kick-ass!!*Fan boy/girl squeal*) Anybody else ever, ever, ever, ever mentioned even remotely with Archie/Sega.

This is purely fan-made, i make no money off anything.

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Chapter 1

It was another surveillance mission, and he was stuck with the newbies. Again.

"Mr. Guardian, the Mathews have left the perimeter."

Hm. That was another thing. They, the Newbies, always called him "Mr. Guardian." Even just 'Guardian' would've been better. But no, they had to go for the ultimatum of ass-kissing and go "Mr. Guardian."

"Just Guardian, kid," he repeated again without taking his eyes from the sparking surveillance screen. "Or Lucifer. Whichever is easier."

The kid just blinked at him, his young face illuminated by the sour green of the screens. Knuckles sighed. Kids are so _dense _now a days. What happened to the insults like Gramps? Or even 'Dude.' Knuckles would settle for 'Dude.'

At least those names saved him a shred of confidence. 'Mr. Guardian' just made him feel old.

"But, Mr. Guardian, it's-that's...disrespectable, isn't it?"

"Why would it be?"

"But the Constable said-"

"The Constable." He rolled his dark eyes. So that's what the problem was. That sniggering old fool, with his look-a-like fedora of dank green where his trusty cap was brown and well-worn.

"Take my word for it, kid," Knuckles Lucifer said. "That Constable is more fulla it than the main city sewage system. Don't trust anything he says regarding me."

"But I still don't-"

"Geesh, kid," he snapped, finally turning his dark glare to the younger male. "Don't you have any common sense of your own? Does the Constable wipe your ass for you, too? Or does he hold your hand while you brush your teeth?"

The young males face darkened. But he didn't say anything back. He knew better. They all knew better. Careful 'round the Guardian, they said, He'll set your little toes on fire if you say the wrong thing to him.

"And if you must know," the guardian sniffed. "'Mr.' makes me feel old."

Blinkblink.

"You'd be surprised," the guardian continued, returning coolly back to his monitor. "how much you age between feeling 80 and 25 when someone calls you 'Mr.' before you're even married."

Th newbie, by now angry and humiliated by the supposedly kind guardian, had had about enough of the pompous guardian. He wanted to go; He'd done his job. He'd told the guardian what he was suppose to know, and now, before the guardian could insult him again, he wanted to leave the red one's presence.

"Go on, get outta here," the guardian said without looking around. "You've done your job. Leave."

It appeared the guardian had similar thoughts.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing as I'm a big dorky loser.

* * *

Chapter 2

On and on, he ran. Faster and faster through the dense forest, flying past gnarled trees with upturned roots and twisted, moving branches that swung and threw their heavy wooden fists through the air.

_Keepyourpacekeepyourpacekeepyourpace_

Oh, he would; No doubt about that. The hell he'd risk this moment-this life or death moment-to a chance of showing off to a crowd that didn't even exist, and even if they did, no one would see him through the darkness of the lonely, cold, unforgiving, deathly forest that was, and had always been and always will be, his home.

His sanctuary.

His shelter.

The replacement of the mother's arms that never held him in no tighter a loving embrace of protection many a cold, lonely nights filled with starvation, nightmares and Things that should've remained just that, but instead had a name given by a boy who'd known no better, no lighter to the subject than anyone else in the Gods-damned _world _of things that should've just remained damned _Things _not things that moved not things that spoke not things that had faces and identities and flawless beauty so clear and perfect they hid sharp minds and scheming mutinous hearts with hate filled souls and lonely, woe filled eyes that showed good Things bad Things like Lust and Love

(of which there was no difference)

and took him farther and farther into the dangers of the world the One's who'd left him here had put him there for in the first place-

Itwasgainingohfuckitwasgainingitwasgainingitwasgianing

He tried to go faster. To his ever growing horror, he couldn't. The ground was thick and up to his knees. He was being sucked to hell, he was being sent to hell, he was wanted in fucking hell-

He ripped, he scarred, he yanked, he screamed; All was repented as he tore free of the grasping Ground and tore through the forest for the Edge. The Saving Edge. The Loving Edge. The Merciful Edge.

The Edge was fast in approaching, very fast, and before he knew it, he was bursting forth from the forest foliage and hurtling towards the Edge and it's jaggery, jutting rocky cliff.

He screeched to a stop, gasping heavily. His heart beat a mile a minute, pounding through his ears, legs and arms. His blood felt riled, flowing like a mad river into a whirlpool in the ocean. Sticky, smelling sweat clung his clothes to his thin, slight frame, his thick loose hair plastered to his pale forehead, and dark, nervous eyes flickering with wild animal fear. Those eyes had seen things (_Things) _that no living other should ever see, nor imagine. He was living horror, pure and undaunted by young minds of reason and stabability. Sanity had left his young mind. Leaving only the hollow shell, capable only of remembering and acting on pure, unadulterated fear that had firmly settled itself snugly in his warped mind and over his glassy, violet wide eyes.

Something crashed behind him, making him spin around in fright.

His body began to shake; Shaking and shivering and moaning as Death loomed with nothing but Itself, it's Holy, Justifying, Purifying in Hellish hot Holy water.

Strange gurgling moans of fright and pain came from deep within his throat, his open shirt flapping in wet smacking sounds from the wind that came heavy and hard from the Edge's steep, jaggery, jutting rocky cliff.

The Cliff.

The Edge.

He turned. His eyes, dark and mysterious, windows to the soul no lucky lady would ever have the grace or the pleasure of seeing, were wide and suddenly hope filled.

The Cliff was the way. The way to Repent. The way to Repay. The way to see the Hope-

He ran, a full out pelt in his dusty boots and dragging pant cuffs.

His toes hit the edge of the cliff, and he crouched, and prayed. He pushed off, hard, and, with his arms outstretched, hurtled from the Edge. Soundlessly, he dropped through the air, wind rippling in waves off his body, ripping his clothes in the process.

No matter, his sound, insane mind chided in a day-to-day echo

(for that _was _what it was)

they'll be of no need for where you're going, dear.

Then his eyes snapped open. And he screamed.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

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Chapter 3

_Was that a _fight_?_

_Were they seriously_ _fighting? On _his _time? On _his first_ day of the job? _

The Hell if he was going to let that past. First week, nay, first fuckin' DAY, and these little bastards thought they'd get in a fight? Right in front _of his fucking room?!_

"Little disrespectable punks," he growled menacingly. He stood, either not noticing or not caring as the heavy office chair crashed to the floor among the papers littering to the floor.

The damn brats _were _fighting!

~!~

Nicolas lashed out with a fist, felt a connection with something and reeled back in pain as a foot caught him in the shin.

"LITTLE BITCH!"

"CUNT!"

He'd win, the two boys vowed in their respected heads as they glared school boy hate at each other. They'd make this bitch eat his fist through his ass.

Collin suddenly kicked out, his heavy knee hitting Nicolas in the chin with a sound crack that echoed through his pounding head, and he dropped, squirming in pain and moaning as blood burst from his busted chin and teeth.

Collin blinked, unsure of what had just happened. Then the sight of his "enemy" laying on the floor before him registered.

"Yes!" He pumped his swollen fist in the air. He'd won, he'd done it, he'd beaten that pussy down to the floo-

Collin had decided that he'd seal-the-deal with a swift kick to the fallen Nicolas' side, smug satisfaction at his victory written all over his pudgy face, and was right in the middle of of a swift kick with a white, splitting tennis shoe when the hard fist connected with the side of his head.

The crowd gathered round the now fallen boys was deathly silent. Nicolas with his groaning and bleeding moaning and Collin's new contribution were the only sounds.

The teacher stood between the boys, handsome face twisted and scowling in a mask too dangerously ugly in rage and shockingly frightening, all the students thought they felt the temperature of the hallway go up.

"You two..." he snarled lowly through clenched teeth, glaring down at the fallen, moaning boys in question. "You two..."

The teacher's rage seemed to increase as he stood there, tall and intimidating.

"YOU TWO!" he suddenly shrieked. In a whirl of impossible speed, he'd snatched Collin's shirt and practically threw him on the floor next to the whimpering Nicolas. "Now," he breathes, glaring violet eyes burning like Hellish flames were actually licking the back of his eye balls. "You two will apologize to each other, right now."

The two just stared in horror at the grown man. Only after he screamed "NOW!" did they even think to respond.

"I-I'm-m s-sorry," Collin choked/whimpered through the blood gushing through his thick, pudgy lips.

Nicolas only whimpered, managing to sputter out a "I'm sorry" after the cruel teacher's hand, claw-like, squeezed the back of his neck.

Satisfied, the teacher stood tall again, his face smooth and calm again as he surveyed the silent crowd gathered.

"Let that be a lesson to all," he cheerfully said. "Fighting is not tolerated."


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: ...I STILL own nothing...

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Chapter 4

"Deadly Sinner." he'd gasped.

"GULA!"

"LUCXURIA!"

"AVARITIA!"

"ACADIA!"

"IRA!"

"INVIDIA!"

"SUPERBIA!"

STOP! STOP! PLEASE, NO MORE!! I'MSORRYI'MSORRYI'MSORRY-

"Vile Sinner! Leave us! Leave this Holy Land! This land that you taint will hang you from the trees of the graves, all misery and Hell risen and rush-"

STOP!!

The broken eyes of his poor mother, the hurt, wretched look of pain and horror stretching across her pale, tight face as she stared at him with new and understanding realization-

NO MORE !! PLEASE!! STOP!

Scratches of hate burned his arms and neck like whips as he ran, blindly with arms outstretched, barely cushening his crashes against stone and cement, his broken, mangled bones beneath his bruised and mangled fur and skin painful and deserving of- EVERY. SINGLE. SIN.

The last blow was a heavy crack of his head against another wall, just one of four of the cell that surrounded him with pitiless justice.

God could not save him, the priests had said, their heavy sunken, self-justified eyes disapproving and self-righteous as they'd stared at him.

Filthy vile, their eyes said.

_Her soft lips, her silken skin, her slender, soft body-_

He whimpered.

_Her erotic moans only egging him on as he greedily took her-_

Stop, he thought with a pained whimper. Please, just make it stop.

_Her wonderful, innocent filled eyes so deep and trusting, he'd fallen instantly the moment she'd looked directly at him. Her skin was warm and inviting, soft and flawless at his touch. She'd been so perfect, so pure..._

And finally, it pierced his heart, deep and "righteous" as the priests rejoiced and celebrated high above on their mighty thrones. And as he fell dead, a woman cried as her child opened it's father's eyes, glaring and hurt with "God's will" and the righteous priests glistening empty, hollowed eyes of dark, unforgiving Hippocratic power.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: No ownership of anything.

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Chapter 5

Love, she thought with dark brooding, is a finicky thing.

And indeed; He was dancing, she was dancing. The

_swishswish_

of her silken skirt across the stone floor, his eyes bearing into hers with a light so direct and handsomely erotic and alluring, she was shocked to find herself suddenly willing to give to him. And if her sudden appearance of lust wasn't enough, he'd apparently read her mind. Bending his neck, he whispered into her ear, "You _will _be mine."

As if she'd actually argue to begin with. Wasn't she the one who'd just admitted she would willingly give her body to him? Or was that just in her head? Oh, dear, she didn't know. Didn't care, either. His eyes were so inviting, so dark and mysterious; Like inviting her to explore the depths of his being.

Then _he_ felt it, too, she thought, her head spinning as his hot breath breathed down her slender neck. She trembled as he pressed closer, his arms holding her tighter and tighter.

Their lips met in a hurried kiss, deep and, she was embarrassed to admit, messy. His hands twitched to her lower back, to her hip, to the tight lace holding the bodice of her Juliet dress tightly clasped around her concealed breasts. Her breath quickened.

"Take me," she begged in breathy whispers. "Please..."

Her dress fell away to the floor around her long legs and he was suddenly inside her, his mouth so quick and direct pressed tightly against hers in a desperate kiss, naked body pressed against his in an embrace of lust and desperation.

She could do nothing as he took her, all of her to himself, his hard, lean body atop her and thrusting with hardness so unfamiliar, it brought tears of pain to her eyes and she had to cry out, softly at first, but then loudly as he thrust harder. He hissed through clenched teeth as sweat ran down his face and her nails scraped down his back.

It was desperate love-making, but that didn't change that it _was _love-making. Well, father, she would be found thinking hours later finding her laying on her back and staring at a dark ceiling. I'm no longer a virgin, and what've you got to say? Slut? Vile, whoring filth? 'Retched thing, get out of my home!'? Yes, that's sounds about right. That is something he would say.

His body was pressed against her again, a warming, comfortable warmth at the feel of him touching her.

She could feel his dark eyes on her, watching in the dark, watching her think, watching her twist and turn in the filthy sheets that they lay upon. Felt his darkness inside her, and _around_ her.

_I'm in love with the devil._

The thought, so unexpected, startled her. Then she laughed, a twisted, horrid sound of fear and self-loathing. The sound retched from her flawless lips in disgusting bursts. He watched her, watched her laugh her insane laugh, and then he joined her, his own deep chuckling reverberating in her ears through her pounding, shocked mind. The he took her again, and again, and again, until each time, she shouted out louder and louder in pain.

Her body was his; Forever, and again.

Her mother's words echoed through her head as he lay

(_sleeping or watching?_)

beside her, his breath on her neck, '_Love, don't you ever fall in love with a man in black. They'll steal your heart, and you'll never get away. Demons eat hearts like yours, little darling.'_

'Little darling' she'd called her. She laughed again, tears choking soundlessly down her face as he slept beside her, the Taker of her virginity, her dignity, her everything, the Taker of her Body, the Taker of her Heart, the Taker of her Love.


End file.
